


Dirge for a Doppelganger

by journalez



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Puella Magi Madoka Magica Spoilers, Rebellion Story Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-02-26 07:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journalez/pseuds/journalez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akuma Homura knows she can't continue interacting with Madoka without her false universe collapsing. But the Clara Dolls keep goading her to try interacting with the world again. Maybe they don't have such a bad idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  **Dramatis Personae**
> 
>  
> 
> **Gods**
> 
>  
> 
> _Kami:_ A far away deity, kept at bay by her agitator. She sends white feathers as calling cards.  
>  _Akuma:_ A self-proclaimed Devil. She languishes, waiting for the last Wraith to fall.
> 
>  
> 
> **Familiars**
> 
>  
> 
> _The Clara Dolls:_ Minions of the Nutrcracker Witch. Mocking mourners who continue to torment the Devil in her newly constructed universe. Fond of pomegranates.  
>  _Ibari:_ Pride  
>  _Nekura:_ Pessimism  
>  _Usotsuki:_ Liar  
>  _Reiketsu:_ Cold-heartedness  
>  _Wagamama:_ Selfishness  
>  _Warukuchi:_ Slander  
>  _Noroma:_ Blockhead  
>  _Yakimochi:_ Jealousy  
>  _Namake:_ Neglect  
>  _Mie:_ Vanity  
>  _Okubyou:_ Cowardice  
>  _Manuke:_ Stupid-looking  
>  _Higami:_ Inferiority complex  
>  _Ganko:_ Stubbornness  
> 

Akuma threw a pomegranate over her shoulder and took her normal seat overlooking the lake bordering Mitakihara Middle School. A nearby Clara Doll shrieked as the half-eaten fruit bounced off her ill-fitting bonnet.

The vile things practically set up camp around these trees, waiting for her to show up in the morning. Akuma couldn't blame them. They weren't the only ones waiting for someone. 

Her heart clenched at the too-familiar laugh echoing across the water. Madoka had swapped out last week's yellow ribbons for some faint blue ones today. It seemed a restless tick of late. None of the colors suited her as well as red.

_Someday, you will become my enemy as well._

Akuma had stopped trying to blend in with the others. She had stopped going to school, stopped trying to fit into a school girl's life. After one-too-many near-slips with the pink-haired girl, one too many times dragging her back down to earth, she had finally learned her lesson. 

Heretics thrived in the shadows for a reason.

Akuma placed an absent-minded hand against the side of her head, patting the ribbons. She would feel guilty, but it was better this way. Too many memories.

"She's not interested in staying here, y'know." Nekura kicked at a stray white feather on the sidewalk, absently grinding it into dust. "Not that you've given Her any interesting reasons to stay."

Akuma ignored the hateful minion and watched another white feather drift gently down. She caught it between her fingers and twirled it. The laughter echoed across the lake. 

A group of crows settled in the nearby trees. One ventured close to her feet, brave enough to peck at her feet before she shooed it away. 

"Maybe you should try again," Warukuchi teased from the trees. "Give Her another chance to remember you."

"You're hardly the same person you once were," Nekura said, her toothy grin unsettling Akuma's stomach.

Akuma thought back to their last meeting. She showed up at the middle school — late, tired, barely bothering to change the teacher's memory so that her absence wouldn't seem so strange. 

Akuma sat in the middle of the room, away from the pink-haired girl and her searching looks. They barely said a word to each other. 

By lunch, the world began to fall away. Akuma barely caught her in time. 

With her face clutched against Akuma's chest, Akuma untied her ribbons. She let the soft pink hair fall in waves around the girl's face, disappearing before the blushing teenager could stumble back fearfully.

Mie grabbed at a falling feather and tucked it into her short brown locks, flashing a cheeky grin at the detached demon. Akuma resisted the urge to drown the stupid thing in the river. 

This entire guise. It was just so... boring.

Lonely. 

Cackles from a gaggle of Dolls pulled Akuma out of her melancholy. Her throat lumped as she watched Mie prance about in a Mitakihara girl's uniform. The Vain Doll twirled for the group, bowing and curtsying mockingly. She caught her demon's eye and leered. As Akuma watched, face carefully blank, Mie distorted her head into a facade of a girl Akuma had trouble remembering. 

"I-I'm A-akemi Homura." The Dolls roared with laughter as Mie knocked her knees together and trembled. "I-it's very nice to meet all of you. I'll do my very best!"

For a moment, a lazy hand reached toward the hateful thing's throat. But Akuma stopped short, gripping the feather instead. She watched the mock-Homura's reflection in the water, barely noticing the rioting creatures and their jeering performance. Her own pale face in the water felt even less real than the pitiful doppleganger they had constructed.

Maybe they didn't have such bad ideas after all.


	2. A Better Day

On a hill overlooking Mitakihara, Usotsuki gathered the Dolls around for a story. 

_Once, there was a servant who tended the cauldron of a talented witch._

Akuma wandered past the story teller, kicking at the white flowers coating the hill. She stayed here, most days. She didn't watch the river anymore. 

_The witch's beauty, rumored throughout the land, was only matched by her wisdom._

A lump rose in her throat. For a moment, multi-colored dots interspersed with white feathers swirled before her vision. She swayed and dropped to her knees, digging her fingers into torn stems and harsh earth. 

_Her magic was coveted by those who would abuse it..._

Crushed flowers lingered under her nails. Nebulae and darkness swam through her mind. She kept digging. 

_... and undeserved by the weak and blundering servant._

Her fingernails chipped against gravel and sand, searching for something more malleable. After some time, rusty clumps became the product of her detached work. 

_The witch decided to create a potion which would grant the drinker wisdom. For a price._

She gathered clay from the muck under her hands. 

_And with a limit._

Her eyes stung with tears and debris. 

_One day, the servant drank a portion of the potion. Convinced the witch would be irate at his theft, he ran._

Akuma watched as the small model twisted beneath her hands. Around her, grass and flowers shriveled. Snow started to fall. She lost track of time. 

Glass shards dug into her skin. 

_He changed his form, stretched his limbs and forced himself into a gallop. His ligaments tore from the strain._

A little dust. A little sand.

_With every stride, he listened for the footsteps of the witch._

Could it really be this easy?

*** *** ***

Madoka woke as she usually did — sweating, her fingers twisted up in the pillow, her shoulders sore. She pushed images of grasping hands and shattered glass out of her mind before taking in her pastel room and chapped hands.

She blearily examined fresh rust-colored marks on her bed's small headboard before looking at her fingers and sighing. Her mother's scream had practically shattered a window the first time Madoka came downstairs with bloody knuckles, but now it was just another unspoken worry at the breakfast table. 

Madoka had trouble thinking back to what it had felt like, before her... break. All she could do is keep taking the medication and hope for the best. 

The dreams weren't as vivid anymore. That had to be a good sign. 

Thoughtlessly, she brushed her hair into twin tails and tugged the wrinkles out of her uniform. She held back a sigh and forced the corners of her mouth to twitch upward. Channeling Sayaka, Madoka struck a defiant pose and pointed at her reflection.

"Today is going to be a better day, Kaname Mado—"

Madoka jumped back as Tatsuya's piercing shriek downstairs interrupted her affirmation. She had seconds to swear over her twisted ankle before her mother's hectic footsteps sounded on the stairs. 

"Madoka! What happened?! Are you OK?" One of her mother's eyes was comically enlarged by her half-done makeup. In the past, it probably would have elicited raucous laughter. 

"Um.. fine, Mama. Tatsu-kun just startled me, s'all." 

Junko pursed her lips and panned worried eyes over her daughter. Her nails tapped nervously against the side of the door. 

"Are you sure you're ready to be back full time?"

"I'm fine, Mama." Madoka swayed a bit as she stood, brushing her skirt off. 

"Cause you don't have to do full days, y'know. I've talked with your professors. They're more than happy to let you do half days, or even send tutors if you're not..."

Junko trailed off as Madoka shuffled toward her mother and hugged her neck tightly. She followed up a kiss on the cheek with her brightest smile. 

"Really, Mama. I'd much rather have a consistent schedule." She hid her ragged fingernails behind her back and focused on keeping her expression cheerful. 

Her mother tried to hide the almost permanent wrinkle forming between her brows. "Well, if you're sure, but I —"

"I've gotta grab some breakfast or I'll be late meeting Sayaka." Madoka gave her mother an awkward half-hug as she rushed past. "I'll grab lunch at school!" 

She paused at the top of the stairs and turned to find her mother staring after her. "It's not going to happen again. I promise." 

Another pause. Junko fiddled with her bangs and nodded, biting her lip absentmindedly. 

"Just, let me know when you get home..." Junko's tone brightened abruptly a few beats into the measured sentence. "Y'know, if Sayaka wants to come over for dinner. Let me know."

Madoka swallowed hard and nodded, keeping her smile painfully tight. Eyes forward, shoulders back, she steeled herself before opening the front door. 

"Today is going to be a better day, Kaname Madoka."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, it probably wasn't the best idea to post a prelude to a much longer project of mine right before moving across half the country. For any of you who have been waiting, I appreciate you sticking with me. And for those of you who decide to stay with this story, be patient. The best laid plans, and all.


	3. No Such Person

Lately, Madoka preferred everything in sequences of threes. 

Three steps and she would reach the next set of three trees bordering the sidewalk. Three minutes until she was late. Three breaths and she would feel her heart skip three beats, insisting that she go slower, or just go somewhere, anywhere...

Madoka caught a glimpse of her reflection in the river and came to a halt. She looked tired, more tired than she looked this morning. And older. 

And there was something... moving in the crystalline picture projected in the water. Not the branches swaying, but something just as hypnotic. Something almost like the swish of a black dress, like the rush of running school girls. 

Something that flashed teeth at her.

"Madoka!" Sayaka suddenly tackled Madoka, leaping from behind.

Madoka's sprained ankle fought to keep her upright. She gulped down air for a moment and forced her muscles to respond, willed her arms to clasp her friend's hands. 

She could still hear laughter in her ears.

"H-hi, Sayaka-chan." Madoka sucked down disorientation as Sayaka crushed her frame in a desperate hug. This was real, as was she, as was her friend. And touch, the doctors would remind her, can be grounding. 

Sayaka released her and immediately planted her hands on her hips. 

"You could have thought to be on time, Madoka-chan." Sayaka wagged a finger sternly. "How is Saotome-sensei gonna feel, huh? First day back and you're already missing roll call."

"Lay off the kid, eh?" Madoka jumped slightly at Kyoko's voice. The upperclassman flashed her a toothy smile from a nearby bench and leaned back, her foot bouncing off her knee. "Kazuko will spend the next ten minutes on that loser she picked up in Kazamino over the break anyway."

Sayaka rolled her eyes and huffed. "Aren't _you_ supposed to be improving your attendance record as well?"

Kyoko shrugged, swinging her deep red hair over dramatically over her shoulder. She delivered a light punch to Sayaka's shoulder as she strolled past. 

"I can't possibly be expected to improve if my alarm clock is late as well, can I?"

Madoka watched crimson flush across Sayaka's face. She almost giggled as her boisterous friend fidgeted. 

"Um... yes... well. You shouldn't be relying on me for punctuality anyway." 

Sayaka threaded her arm through the crook of Madoka's elbow and tugged her along. The girls' curt Mary Janes made hard clacking sounds against the sidewalk. 

"So, finally in Japan for good? Is Kaname-san gonna stop whisking you away to live with gaijin?" 

Another peal of laughter sounded from the trees. Madoka fought hard not to jerk her head toward the movement. 

"Um... I'm sorry, what?"

Sayaka frowned and slowed her speech. "A-me-ri-ka. The country you just came back from? The country you keep getting shipped to? You know, flags? Burgers?"

"Oh, right! Sorry," Madoka scrambled to keep her thoughts together. It seemed so long ago that her mom had dialed the Miki residence, her hands shaking. She stepped into the hallway so the phone wouldn't pick up the beeping heart monitor. 

"So... are you going back?" Sayaka tried to keep a joking expression, but there was a quiet pleading in her voice. 

"I can't say for sure, Sayaka-chan," Madoka fought to keep some determination behind her words. "But I'd really like to be here. I really would."

Mitakihara Middle School's polished windows refracted the girl's approach as they drew closer to the entrance. Madoka could feel Sayaka swallowing a thousand worries. In the distance, a familiar girl with long black hair and a Mitakihara uniform walked through the school's double doors. This time, when Madoka blinked, she didn't disappear.

*** *** ***

Humans were strange.

They could notice in an instance the most unimportant of changes, and yet...

Kyubey flicked the thought out of his mind before plodding to the demon's usual hill, nearly stumbling in the dark. Walking seemed to exponentially increase the number of jerks and halts in the alien's gait. His body was spent; it wore out fast these days.

But never mind. This, like everything, was temporary.

As Akuma came into view, Kyubey noted carefully the quick drum of her fingers, the downward set of her mouth. He moved to a patch of grass just out of her reach. As usual, his approach merited no recognition. 

And, to be fair, the demon's heavily banded soul gem was a far more curious sight than anything Kyubey's cat-like facade could offer. 

_There are some irregularities tonight._ The incubator waited fruitlessly for his words to cut some of the distance in Akuma's eyes. _The miasma grew more quickly than we anticipated. At least 40 percent of the city is covered in wraiths._

Akuma's long fingers spidered longingly across the surface of her gem. The few bright spots inside seemed to shudder, writhe away from her touch. 

_At this rate, the usual deployment will not be sufficient._ Kyubey hopped to a fence post, creating even more distance between himself and the hunched figure before him. He dashed an anxious tongue through his fur. _Mindless minions do not make a good substitute for capturing grief._

Kyubey paused, watched Akuma's brow furrow. If the alien had a mouth he would suck his teeth in frustration. 

_If you would allow —_

Akuma held up a slender digit. She slowly returned to her gazing position, softly stroking the surface of her gem. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, Kyubey watched a faint smile spread over Akuma's lips. 

"Your species does not take enough initiative, Incubator." 

She spared him a small glance, and motioned toward her hand. The soul gem rose up, a haunting glow impossibly seeping through the blackness dotting its swirling surface. It danced shadows across the grass, wraith-like forms that swelled and swarmed within the confines of the soul gem's projection.

Suddenly, a purple light pierced the forms squirming across the ground. The heavy fog, settled snugly around the city below, seemed to sound something of a quiet scream as it lifted back into the sky. 

"Why is it that your kind always tries to out-swarm insects?" Akuma flashed the alien another smile before holding out her hand for her soul gem, which drifted gently back into her palm. "Pesticides usually suffice."

Kyubey's tail twitched. Somewhere in the city, he knew a copy of his race was waiting for the miasma to descend again while it gobbled grief cubes.

 _Clever. But this is a temporary fix._ The alien hopped down from the fence post and walked away, with what he hoped was a nonchalant saunter.

"Just exercise your creativity, Incubator." Akuma absentmindedly stroked the gem in her palm, her tone already growing distant. "Do not rely on me to do your job again."

If resentment were a logical thing to feel, Kyubey was sure he would. He felt so many illogical things these days.

Halfway down the hill, Kyubey turned for a parting glance. He ran another tongue down his body. It was becoming something of a nervous twitch. 

_The system is unbalanced, Akemi Homura. You cannot hope for stolen minions and witch tricks to prevail forever._

For a moment, Akuma fixed her eyes on him, expression frozen. Kyubey tried to match his backwards steps to the slow spread of her cold smile.The alien felt Ibari's talon-like fingers close around his neck before his hairs had a chance to raise. 

Akuma took practically a lifetime to glide toward Kyubey, clearly enjoying the increasing pressure her minion was mounting against Kyubey's spine. She lifted his chin up to her face, scratched behind his ears. Each touch of her cold flesh sent shocks of pain through the alien's temporary body. She kept her smile fixed as she projected her words into his mind. Her telepathic voice echoed cold and loud.

 _I thought I mentioned to you, Incubator._ Her eyes, near luminous, filled the whole of his vision. _There is no use in addressing Akemi Homura. No such person exists anymore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> h/t to [nitroglycerific](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitroglycerific) for being my beta tester and pestering me to finish a new chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who stuck around for an update. I started this story as kind of a theological catharsis, and sometimes it gets a little hard to write. I'm getting a second wind on this story though, so hopefully I can provide more regular updates. 
> 
> I'll probably be updating the cast list on the prologue in the next couple of days, so look out for that.


End file.
